Enigma
by Autumn de Briar
Summary: Set right after the end of season two. Stiles is convinced he is the useless member of their little group and Derek finds out he's actually the most important member. Stiles settles in to his role as Very Important Pack Member and Derek settles in to his role as Alpha. Neither are very happy about their roles at first. Slow build. Probably Sterek later on. I love hurt Stiles.
1. Chapter 1

"You can stop sulking now," his father said. "Like, anytime is good. Really, I won't mind if you just start talking and chatting and basically not be a moody teenager. Anytime. Really."

Stiles bit his tongue before answering. "I'm not sulking."

"He says petulantly," his father retorted.

"I'm sixteen, what do you expect from me?"

"Well, you're also Stiles, meaning I expect an endless commentary on everything, including the weather, girls, school, my driving abilities, your health, my health, and whatever else might be on your mind."

"Oh so you want an endless commentary, which I resent by the way the fact that everyone seems to think that all I do is talk talk talk when really I do know how to be quiet and I often exercise that ability thank you very much, on how much I think this is utter crap, that you're dragging me to Sacramento when I'm perfectly capable of staying home alone for a few days without burning down the house? You really want me to expound on how much I hate this? Really, Dad?"

His dad's jaw tensed momentarily but he didn't look away from the road. "Well, how about we talk about _why_ you hate it?"

"I have things to do!" Which was completely true, though he certainly couldn't tell his father any of the things he needed or wanted to do. Everything was changing back in Beacon Hills. Peter was now back from the grave, which raised plenty of awkward, painful, scary questions that Stiles didn't even know if he wanted answered. Jackson was now cured of being a kanima and was officially a full-fledged werewolf, which Stiles was actually still confused about (was he really cured of being a kanima or was he now just a hybrid, or a weird mixture of werewolf, lizard, and human, and what did that mean?). Lydia and Jackson were back together, and Stiles didn't want to go anywhere near that topic with a metaphoric ten foot pole. Derek said something right before he left regarding Alphas coming to Beacon Hills, but Stiles had been in such a rush that he was hoping he'd misheard. One Alpha (or two? Was Peter also an Alpha now? Or did he take back his Alphahood when he came back?) was enough for one town and if another Alpha came, that was bad news, but if a whole pack of Alphas came… Peter's full Alpha state was enough to give Stiles nightmares _still_ and if a whole pack of Alphas came running through Beacon Hills wreaking havoc, Stiles was pretty sure he was going to have to say goodbye to sleep for good.

Stiles was sure that even five days away would be too many. Who knew what might happen in five days?

"Like what?"

For a moment, he thought he'd said all that out loud. "Like… I don't know, stuff. Scott and Allison just broke up again and he probably needs me."

"I think he can handle a few days. And it's not like I took your phone away."

"But why, Dad?" Stiles turned to face his father as much as the seatbelt would allow. "Why do I have to come with you? Why couldn't I stay at home?"

His father shrugged, eyes still on the road. "Maybe I just wanted some quality time with my son. Is that a bad thing?"

"You're going to a conference! We won't even see each other most of the time!"

"Well, maybe you can look at some schools while we're there."

That brought Stiles up short. "Schools? As in, college schools?"

"Sure. You'll be graduating in a couple of years, it's good to look around."

"Dad, I don't even know what I want to study yet! Besides, I figured I'd go to Beacon Hills community college first."

His dad shrugged. Stiles realized he was serious.

"I don't really want to look at colleges, Dad." Even as he said it, though, he felt the sincerity seep out of his voice. College. He had just started thinking the werewolves, the kanima, the pack was his life. But just like that, his dad was showing him a way out without even trying.

"Stiles, you're smart. You hide it a lot and pretend you're not, but I know you better than that. You could start taking classes at the community college next year, get your foot in the door for a really good college…"

Stiles cringed. "On top of regular school and lacrosse, I'll have no free time if I take college courses."

His dad shrugged again. "Maybe that's a good thing."

Stiles looked at his father. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." His father shook his head as if to drop it.

"Dad…"

"I just…" his dad stumbled. "I worry about you, Stiles. The last few months… it's been one thing after another. And…" He sighed. "I don't know."

Stiles blinked, letting the pieces slide together. "You think it's because I have free time? That's why you brought me along. Not for quality time or schools but because you think I have too much free time. You think I'm going to get into trouble, or something. You don't trust me."

"Have you given me much reason to trust you?"

Stiles flinched and swallowed. _Well, Dad, I kind of thought you'd freak out about werewolves and kanimas if I told you about them and I've been working so hard to keep you from having a heart attack that it would be counter productive of me to _give_ you one because of the life I lead now. Nevermind the possibility that, if I did tell you, we'd be going to Sacramento to look at loony bins instead of colleges. Oh and forget the fact that your guns are pretty much useless and I'm pretty sure it would do a number on your psychological health knowing your son was mixed up in shit you have no way of protecting him against. No, that wouldn't remind you of the way you couldn't protect your wife from cancer, not at all._

"I'm not an idiot, Stiles," his father continued. "You've been lying to me for months. I kept thinking that you'd tell me when you're ready but the more silence I get, the more lies you tell me, the more I feel like a fool. So no, I didn't trust you to stay home alone."

Stiles sank in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. His dad knew all the best ways of making Stiles feel like an ass.

"Sulk all you want," his father said, exasperation finally creeping into his voice. "We've got three and a half more hours. Get it out of your system."

* * *

_Derek sys he cn smll thm. mst b clos_

Im 6 hours away. don't do n-e-thing stoopid

_dnt worry ill b fine_

Whats his plan?

_hasn't told me yet_

Allison's dad know yet?

_dnt no allisons acting wierd_

Weird how?

_nt tlking 2 me. Sux man_

Don't worry she loves you you'll get thru this

_hpe so. Gtg_

* * *

He was still annoyed the next day when they went out for dinner, though it had dwindled a bit. Mostly, he was concerned about the pack and whatever stupid idea Derek had come up with. Derek wasn't a very good planner, as Stiles had realized when Derek had convinced him to cut off his arm. Also, Scott sounded pretty upset about Allison not even talking to him. And here he was, chilling with his dad who blatantly told him the day before that he didn't trust him. Which, given, he had every reason not to trust him. Stiles was an idiot for thinking he could lie to his Sheriff father. Still, it sucked being between a rock and a hard place.

Apparently, his silence was grating on his father's nerves, which he quickly realized when his father slammed down his utensils. He took a deep breath, ignoring the worried glances from the other patrons. "Anything, Stiles. Say anything. Please."

He considered, briefly, saying, 'anything,' just to be a smartass but instead went with something else he'd been thinking recently. "How come we don't talk about her?"

His father froze and just looked at Stiles, his eyes practically screaming, 'Why? Why now, why that topic, why are you doing this to me?'

Stiles shook his head and looked away. "Something I saw today reminded me of her, that's all. I'm sorry, we don't have to -"

"No, Stiles. I said anything, I meant anything. You want to talk about her, we can talk about her." He took a deep breath. "Just took me by surprise, is all."

Stiles stared at his plate. "She hated diners, didn't she?"

"Always said the food was too greasy." His father finished his milkshake. Stiles was sure the only reason he'd gotten it was because he knew Stiles, while in this mood, wouldn't say anything. He had anyway but didn't fight it the way he usually would. "We were a mess, you and I, after she died. You started having panic attacks, you got diagnosed with ADD, I was… lost. Then when your panic attacks started to go away, I kind of thought if we talked about her, you might… I don't know, relapse or something."

Stiles bit his lip. Now was definitely not the time to tell him that the panic attacks were already back. He swallowed the lump that tried to form in his throat. "I feel like… sometimes, I think I'm forgetting her."

His dad stared at him, sadness etched in every wrinkle on his face. "What'd you see that reminded you of her?"

Stiles smiled, remembering. "A car. Looked a lot like the Delorean."

His father burst out laughing. "Oh my god… those movies…" He sighed. "She loved those movies. I haven't been able to watch them since. Hell, every time I see Michael J. Fox, I think of her."

Stiles poked at his mashed potatoes. They were too lumpy for his liking but he was considering putting some salt on them and eating them anyway.

"We should watch them."

He looked at his father, surprised.

"Yeah, we should do a marathon one Saturday. Just you and me. We'll order pizza and eat popcorn. And we can talk about her. Then, now, whenever you want. I like… I like talking about her."

Stiles grinned. "You just want an excuse for me to let you eat pizza and popcorn."

His father allowed a small, sheepish grin.

"I have a, uh…" Stiles blushed, he could feel the heat in his cheeks. He continued, though, knowing his dad would be interested. "I have a notebook. Whenever I think I'm forgetting her, I pull out the notebook. It's got stuff in it… I'd like to add to it."

His father stared at him for a moment, smile gone though his mouth was still open. "You have a notebook? Of memories?"

Stiles nodded. "Of stuff about her. Her favorite movies, her pet peeves, what she smelled like."

"Smoke," his father said. "Like bonfire smoke. From the incense she loved. And a hint of cumin."

Stiles laughed. "She used cumin in everything, didn't she?"

His father's face looked haunted for a moment. "Everything," he drawled. Then he laughed. "When did you start that?"

"The notebook? When she was in the hospital. I'd go, talk to her, memorize every little thing she said or how she said it, then go home and write everything down."

"I didn't know that. I'd like to see it. Or you could read it to me. I'd like that."

"I'd like it, too. And maybe you can tell me stuff I don't even know about."

For the first time in months, since before he got his father fired, before the kanima, before Scott even got bit, he felt like the tension, the rift between him and his father was finally going away. At least a little. It was easier talking about something he didn't have to lie about.

* * *

_Thnk we need u man_

Why?

_Ngtiations nt goin 2 gd_

How do you mean?

_Derek threw 1 of the alphas_

That was stupid

_She shot erica w/ wolf's bane_

Oh

_Whn u comin bck?_

3 days

_Dude. Sooner_

Not my choice

_Dude_

OMG ill try!

* * *

He did try. He tried explaining that Scott was taking the breakup pretty bad. Of course, he was shot down. It wasn't like his father was going to drop everything and drive Stiles back six hours home just because Scott was having emotions. He didn't push the issue, either, since he didn't want to ruin the good mood they'd established the night before at the diner. Derek was an Alpha and Peter was an ex-Alpha. They should be able to handle things for a little while, especially the way Derek made it blatantly clear he didn't trust Stiles or even really want him around.

He did ignore his father's request to check out the schools in the area, though. Instead, he went to the library after dropping his father off at the conference. The library was bigger and better than the one in Beacon Hills and he ended up getting lost in some books about werewolves pretty quickly. There were theories he hadn't seen on the internet, which led him to books about real wolves, to try to separate the similarities and differences, and soon he had stacks on either side of him. He made a mental note to put away at least the werewolf books so the librarian wouldn't get suspicious. Just to be safe.

At four, just as he was about to leave to pick up his dad, his phone rattled the table. He knocked a book off the table in his haste to grab it, then hit his head when he darted to grab the book that fell.

He muttered a curse as he read the message from Derek. _Get back now._

He rolled his eyes. _No can do._

Immediately, he got a response. _Not a request._

He made a face at the phone, mixture of tongue and pinched nose. _Screw you =P_

He ignored the phone the first time it rang, silencing it but not rejecting it. Quickly, he put the lycanthrope books back in their places and took his bag out to the car. By the time it rang the third time, he was settled in the driver's seat, not yet driving but at least he was away from any possible listeners.

"Mr. Sour Wolf, so good to hear from you."

He could hear the growl and annoyance before he even said anything. "They have Scott."

Stiles swallowed. "The Alphas?"

"The Hunters."

"Why do the Hunters have Scott?"

"The Alphas have Allison."

Stiles rubbed his face with his free hand. "Are you kidding me? Oh my god!" He hit the steering wheel. "Five days! Five and you can't even last two! How, how do you guys get yourselves into these messes?"

Derek was silent.

"Okay. Why? Why do you need me? What good am I going to be?"

Derek's voice was somewhere between cold, as in colder than normal, and strained. "You are neutral."

Stiles waited for more. When none was forthcoming, he gave a grunt of annoyance. "What do you mean, I'm neutral? Because I'm human?"

"Something like that."

Stiles sighed slowly, trying to keep his temper in check. "And Lydia? What is she, chopped liver?" Stiles winced. "Please don't tell me she's chopped liver."

"What? No, she's fine." Stiles felt a little better hearing Derek use the tone he was so fond of using when Stiles was being a moron. "But she won't work."

"Why?"

"Because she won't, you idiot! You need to get back here or both Scott and Allison are going to die tonight and Beacon Hills will be a battlefield between Hunters and Wolves."

Stiles used both hands to hit the steering wheel this time, effectively hanging up on Derek at the same time. He texted Derek requesting the location he was supposed to be at and when and prayed to a god he wasn't entirely sure he believed in that his father wasn't going to kill him.


	2. Chapter 2

When Derek found out Stiles was going on a trip with his dad for a few days, he was actually relieved. Not that he didn't like Stiles. Actually, no, he pretty much didn't like Stiles. The kid rubbed him the wrong way. He got in the way far too often when it came to Scott, letting him get away with anything when all Derek wanted was to help him. He was unshakably loyal to Scott and while it was a good trait in most packs, it pissed Derek off. Mostly because Scott's agenda was to not join Derek's pack and to go against everything Derek said and make plans and schemes without telling him about it. And Stiles backed him up every time.

Also, Stiles had those eyes. They saw, they understood far more than Derek was comfortable with. He was the one to catch on that Jackson as the kanima was an abomination. He was the one to realize Scott was a werewolf before even Scott knew.

And the defiance in them was maddening. When they were in the pool, Derek was sure, absolutely sure, that everything he said was true. That Stiles didn't trust him, that he was only saving him so that he could take on the kanima when the paralysis wore off. But then Stiles had dropped him, and it hadn't even seemed like it was because he wanted to make the phone call but more that Derek had provoked him into doing it by saying he wouldn't. More than that, he came back, pulled him back to the surface, and then kept them both afloat for two hours. If Scott hadn't been there to yank them out when he did, Stiles was so exhausted by that point that he and Derek both would have drowned.

Stiles was confusing. Every time he thought he had the kid figured out, he went and did something totally unexpected. That pissed Derek off. He was usually so good at sniffing people out and figuring out if they were good or bad. Even Laura used to look at him to see if he approved or not. The only other time he'd been wrong about someone was with Kate. So, not being able to figure out Stiles, yes, that definitely put him on edge.

Plus, he always took up Scott's time by 'training' with him. Derek didn't know what kind of training they did but he was sure it wasn't anything like what he should be doing. A werewolf needs to train with other werewolves. Training with a human was like a college student studying with fifth graders for a math test.

But with Stiles gone, Scott and Allison broken up, he figured it would be easier to convince him to train with the big boys. Hell, maybe if they all trained well while Stiles was gone, Scott would give up on the silly human pack and join Derek's.

It wasn't even that he wanted a bigger, stronger pack. Sure, that was part of it. But another part of it was that he was slightly terrified for Scott. He was an omega. Omegas were not safe alone. Especially one as targeted as Scott was. Leave it to Scott to fall in love with a Hunter. The kid was either incredibly lucky or incredibly unlucky. Derek could never be sure.

The first night Stiles was gone, he convinced Scott to come over to train. He'd gotten a whiff earlier, when he was driving home from the store, of something different, something strange, something very much not good. He could sometimes smell danger and the woods definitely smelled tinged with it. More than likely the Alphas.

He called everyone in to train. He broke them up into teams, Erica and Isaac, Scott and Boyd, and Derek with Jackson. Isaac was more experienced, more intuitive to the werewolf senses than either Erica or Boyd, and he didn't trust Scott not to hold a grudge against Erica. Jackson was so new to the full fledged were-abilities that Derek wanted to evaluate them, test his limits, before he set them on any of the others. Lydia and Peter were off in the corner of the room, huddled over a computer, and speaking in hushed tones. Derek could have listened in if he'd tried but Jackson was pummeling him a little more than he expected.

He heard a thump as someone crashed to the floor. "Shit! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Scott!" Boyd looked up at Derek as he walked over. "I didn't mean to, I didn't…"

"It's fine man, it's healing, just… give me a moment." Scott was on his back but his leg was twisted, the bone poking through just a little.

Derek sighed. "It'll heal faster if it's set." He knelt down and yanked on the leg before Scott could say or do anything. He heard the winces and gasps from the other wolves as Scott screamed. Derek looked up at them. "This is nothing. The Hunters hate us. The Alphas hate us. You realize we are looking at a potential war here, right?"

They all had the grace to at least look sheepish.

"If you can't even train without getting injured like this, imagine what it would be like in an actual fight. Because that's what it's going to come down to."

"I think you're going about this all wrong, Derek," Peter said.

Derek turned to look at him, feeling the red bleed into his eyes. It went against nature and instinct to question the Alpha and Derek's hackles rose immediately.

Peter held up his hands, palms forward. "Hey, calm down. I'm with you. I've got your back. But Derek, you're the Alpha. They're not going to be attacking Isaac or Boyd or Erica. Maybe Scott or Jackson. They will, however, be attacking you. You will be first and foremost on their hit list. You need to be training most of all."

"I _am_ training," Derek said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, I see that. Can you shift into a complete wolf yet?"

Derek growled. Peter was either very close or actually over the line here. This was no way to treat an Alpha in front of the betas.

"I'm just saying, Derek. You're new to this. I get that. We all get that. But you took it. You wanted to be Alpha, now you're Alpha. And part of being Alpha is protecting your pack. You think those other Alphas won't be able to turn into a full wolf? Do you not remember when I gutted you at the high school? Oh shut up, I could still go full wolf on your ass if I wanted to and I haven't. You're my Alpha, I accept that. Now you accept it."

Derek tried to reign in his anger but he couldn't silence the growling completely. "I am training all day every day. You know that, Peter."

Peter spread his arms. "You've got the entire pack here. Instead of splitting them up into pairs, how about they all try to attack you?"

"Why don't _you _train with him?" Scott said. "If you can still go full wolf, you can teach him how."

Peter and Derek both shook their heads at the same time. Derek continued growling, still struggling with his anger.

"It would be too much like a challenge," Peter said. "I couldn't do it, I can't do it, take on the Alpha without the wolf instincts taking over and trying to reclaim the Alpha role."

Derek glared at him.

"I don't want to be the Alpha, Derek. Stop worrying."

"Not worrying," Derek growled. He wasn't worrying. He was just pissed off.

"Well?" Lydia said to Peter. "Is that how you got to be big bad wolfy? Have all the betas attack you all at once?"

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment. "Not exactly. I'm a lot older than Derek. I had a lot more time to work my way up to full wolf. Derek needs to do it in a matter of days."

"That's your advice?" Jackson said. "There's not enough time? Too bad so sad? Sounds like a load of bull."

"There's got to be some way for him to get stronger quicker," Scott said. He'd managed to climb onto his feet and wasn't even limping. "Maybe Deaton knows of something… he always seems to know things… it's kind of weird…" He trailed off.

"No," Derek said. "The less who know about my… shortcomings… the better."

"Well, we'll have to make do, then," Lydia said. "What else can we try?"

They were all silent for a moment, looking around at each other. "Kind of wish Stiles was here," Peter said suddenly.

"Yeah, he's always got ideas," Scott said, pulling out his phone. "I'm going to text him."

"Don't," Derek said. "I don't want him here."

"Why?" Scott asked, exasperated. "What do you have against him? He's better at researching this stuff than I am, better than apparently all of us are because he would probably have an idea by now of what to do."

"He's human. He needs to stay out of this as much as possible."

"It might be too late for that," Peter said slowly, quietly.

"No, it's not too late until someone…" Derek whipped his head around to look at Peter. "Don't tell me you…"

Peter shrugged guiltily. "Maybe…"

In the blink of an eye, Derek had Peter shoved against a wall. "Maybe?"

Peter grimaced. "Yes?"

Derek roared and shoved himself away from Peter, feeling himself shift. He realized he had to get out of the house, away from the betas and Lydia but especially away from Peter. He knew blood would spill if he stayed.

* * *

Derek ran for the next twelve hours straight, a big circle around the Hale house, repeatedly until even Stiles and Lydia could walk the path without getting hit by a branch. He was trying to reach his limit, which was both dangerous and necessary. He couldn't afford to get attacked in that state but it was also the only way he knew of getting better, stronger. Find your limit and then go beyond it.

He hoped Scott got in touch with Stiles and convinced him to come back home. Now that Peter let him in on the whole story, he felt an intense wave of protectiveness and all he wanted was Stiles in the house, safe and sound. Every time he imagined someone finding out about him, he got a burst of adrenalin that spurned him to run more.

Finally, he made his way back to the house. Scott was gone, presumably back home so his mother didn't worry. The same went for Erica and Boyd. Lydia and Jackson were still around, Lydia and Peter still surfing the web while Jackson and Isaac trained together. Isaac seemed to be as permanent a fixture to the house as Derek and Peter.

Derek avoided even looking at Peter as he trudged his way up the stairs. All of the wolves plugged their noses as he passed and he had a fleeting image of hugging each and every one of them and using the excuse of scenting them. But even he wasn't that evil.

He didn't even bother to shower before crashing on the bed.

* * *

Some hours later, Lydia was poking him awake. Jackson was standing in the doorway, tense in case he woke up in a bad mood but far enough away that he didn't pass out from the smell. "Food. Even big bad Alphas need to eat," she said, shoving a plate towards him. It was just a couple of sandwiches but Derek was starving and he had eaten one entire sandwich by the time she reached the door. "And take a shower. Even I found it difficult to be in there." She pinched her nose for dramatic effect. He was too busy eating to even grace her with a growl.

Downstairs, his hair still dripping from the shower, he leveled a finger at Peter. "You should have told me long before now."

Peter licked his lips and then nodded. "You're right."

"We got a message while you were sleeping," Isaac said. Derek lifted an eyebrow at him. "They're coming tonight. Two hours. Something about negotiations."

"The others?" he asked.

"Erica is on her way. Boyd and Scott will be here in an hour."

Derek swallowed. He'd rather everyone was at the house already. He didn't like the idea of his betas arriving at the same time as other Alphas. "The Hunters?"

"I don't think they even know yet," Lydia said. "Allison might not be talking to Scott but she's still talking to me."

"She's not talking to Scott?" Derek asked. It wasn't that he liked gossip because he didn't. He hated it. What his betas did in their own time was their own business. At the same time, he knew that Scott's anchor was Allison, and that meant it was important for Derek to know. He felt a wave of anger flow through him as he realized how much he didn't know about his pack, how much they kept him out of the loop. "What else is going on?" he asked angrily. Everyone glanced at him then at each other, confused. "Go ahead, tell me. You two," he said to Lydia and Jackson, "you're doing okay? No fights, no disputes? Working everything out? Lydia is okay with having a werewolf boyfriend?"

Lydia blinked and stuck out her lower lip, sulking almost. "Yes. We're fine."

Derek nodded. "And Isaac? Are you okay? You've gone through a lot the last few weeks. How are you adjusting?"

"I'm… I'm okay, Derek. Better than ever, actually."

Derek nodded again. "I need to know. I need to know everything. Peter is keeping secrets from me, then Scott and Allison aren't talking… I need to know these things."

"What exactly is Peter hiding, by the way?" Erica said as she came in through the front door.

"It doesn't matter," Derek said.

"Wait. It's not okay to keep secrets from you but it's okay to keep secrets from us? Hell no," Jackson said.

"When he gets back," Derek said, his jaw tight, "then I'll tell you. Not until then."

"Why?" Isaac asked. "Why do you need to know what's going on in our personal lives?"

"Because you're my pack. Everything that happens to you in your personal lives affects your stability, your control on the wolf. If your emotional state is weak, your control on the wolf will be weak."

A glance at Peter sent another wave of anger coursing through him. The man was grinning.

"What the hell are you smiling about?"

"You. Caring. Becoming Alpha."

"I _am_ the Alpha," he growled.

"No," Lydia said, her eyes wide. "I mean, yes. What he means is that helps. That's part of being the Alpha. That helps you get stronger as the Alpha." She turned and smacked Peter's arm. "Why didn't you say so before!?"

"I didn't think of it! Besides, caring isn't something you can train for or force. It has to come naturally."

"Wait," Derek said, exasperated. "Are you telling me that my asking how everyone's doing helps me to… achieve full wolf form?"

Peter nodded after a moment. "Actually, yes."

"So what about if we actually have emotional baggage?" Erica asked. "Do we sit down and chat with Derek and he makes it all better?"

Peter and Derek locked eyes and then Derek groaned. Peter chuckled and said, "Yeah. Pretty much."

"I think I hate my life," Derek muttered.

"I think we know what we're doing for the next two hours until the other Alphas get here," Lydia said, practically beaming.

Derek stared at her. "You realize this goes both ways, right?" Her smile faltered for a moment. "You can't lie to me. Forget the fact that I'll know, you need to accept me as your Alpha. I can sense it. If you lie to me, it'll mean you don't accept me. Everyone here," he said, looking around the room to address everyone, "needs to be honest with me and actually tell me if something is bothering them. So all those little secrets you've been hiding, your insecurities, anything at all - you need to tell me. You need to figuratively bare your necks to me." The click from everyone swallowing was audible and not just because he was a wolf. He grinned wryly. "Not so funny now, is it?"

"This will be fun," Peter said.

* * *

It certainly didn't start out as a disaster.

Derek felt oddly fulfilled after hearing about their personal problems, though he wouldn't admit it. He didn't get through everyone, only Erica, Isaac, and Jackson, but it was enough. His anger had dissipated for the most part, leaving a sense of wonder. Now when he looked into their eyes, he felt more of a connection. As if just hearing about their problems taught him about what made them tick, or what made their ticker stutter. Listening to them, looking into their eyes as they spoke about what was truly in their hearts, led to a better understanding of what their eyes were saying all the rest of the time, which he knew would be valuable in a fight. It shocked him that just talking could have this kind of effect on his abilities as an Alpha.

The minute the Alpha walked into the room, he tensed. She had a strange scent to her and he didn't like her eyes. Nothing specific that he could pinpoint but his hackles were raised nonetheless. He sniffed as the door opened but no one else was nearby. It was only her.

That only made him more anxious. She was too confident, coming into a pack alone like that.

"We heard Beacon Hills had a new Alpha," she said after brief introductions were made. Her name was Evelyn but she refused to talk about the rest of her pack, where or who they were, and why they weren't with her. It made Derek growl.

"That's true," Peter said. "I was the old Alpha and I handed over the reigns to Derek here."

Years of practice kept the lie from his heart but Evelyn was not convinced. She raised an eyebrow at him as if to say, 'You're not fooling anyone,' but she ignored it. "Your pack is weak. You have a ragtag group of high school students and an elderly wolf who smells half mad with pain and grief."

Peter's façade didn't shake but he also didn't smile or throw back a witty retort, which went to show how true her statement was.

"And a human," she said wonderingly, looking at Lydia, sizing her up. No doubt wondering how or why a human was allowed into the group.

"She's immune," Derek said in reference to Lydia. Immediately, Evelyn lost interest. "And we have an alliance with the Hunters."

Evelyn's eyebrows shot straight to the line of curls on her forehead. "Hunters? Really?"

Derek merely smiled.

"That's right," Erica said. "We're stronger and more connected than you think. So how about you take your dogs back to the pound they crawled out of?"

Derek winced and then glared at her. Not only were dog jokes childish but coming from a beta to an Alpha was a serious overstep.

Unfortunately, Evelyn was an experienced Alpha with absolutely no tolerance for wayward betas. Within seconds, she lifted her wrist and a loud bang deafened Derek for a moment. He watched Erica slump to the ground. Before he had time to think, Derek's hand was crushing every bone in Evelyn's wrist as he dragged her to the front door and threw her clear across the yard.

Then he slammed the door and went back to see to Erica. On the floor, she was writhing in pain, small black tendrils already snaking their way through her veins. The bullet was still embedded in her shoulder, but Scott was currently working on pulling it out. He seemed to have better luck with using his claws as tweezers than anyone else, even Peter and Derek.

"Here," Lydia said, holding out a vial.

"What's that?" Derek asked.

"It's a wolfsbane cure-all. Deaton made it."

"Why did Deaton give you a wolfsbane cure-all?" Scott said. Erica screamed and Scott started apologizing, obviously slipping when he'd turned to question Lydia.

"He didn't. Stiles did."

Everyone looked at Lydia then.

"What? He gave me a few things when Jackson turned."

"Wow," Derek said, inspecting the vial. "I didn't even know this existed."

"He said it works for basic wolfsbane, all of the more popular and common kinds."

"I thought he liked you," Jackson said to her.

"He does. That's why he gave it to me."

"No, I mean _like _like. As in, therefore _doesn't_ like me. As in, if I got shot with a wolfsbane bullet, he'd be more than happy to let me suffer."

She stared at him. "_I know_ what you mean. That _is_ why he gave it to me. He knew if anything happened to you, I'd be devastated."

Everyone was silent, except Erica who proceeded to groan and whine until Scott finally pulled out the bullet.

"Why is this a surprise?" Lydia asked.

After another moment of silence, Derek poured the vial into Erica's wound. She let out a piercing scream, just a moment's worth, but then quieted down as the healing process took over. "I guess we're just realizing how important Stiles is to this pack." He looked at Scott. "We need him here."

"I'll text him."

* * *

Around noon the next day, Scott got a text from Allison. Despite the events of the previous night, Derek was feeling good. Not that being treated like a therapist felt good, but with every word that passed between him and a beta, he felt himself getting stronger, felt the wolf inside him stretching with pleasure. He was sure if he changed now, he'd be noticeably bigger, closer to wolf than human.

Erica talked about her parents being suddenly very cautious and concerned about her new look and the fact that she stopped taking her medications. It hurt her deeply, he could tell, that she couldn't tell them the truth and that some part of them were probably thinking that she was doing drugs.

Jackson grudgingly admitted that he never felt like he belonged because he had been adopted. It didn't even matter to him that his parents were wealthy or that they obviously cared because they had gone out of their way to adopt him, unlike unplanned pregnancies. Derek saw Jackson's problems as being an issue later in the future, something he would have to really talk to the kid about because he was obviously deluded to think that he wasn't loved. He seemed to think he needed to get good grades, be the lacrosse captain, have the perfect girlfriend in order to be love. Later, Derek would have to address these issues. But for now, all Jackson seemed to ne was someone to listen. And Derek was all ears. Thankfully, Jackson was also head over heels in love with Lydia and couldn't contain the smile that broke over his face when he talked about her. Lydia was his anchor, the same way Allison was for Scott.

Derek beat down the envy that threatened to rise up then.

Isaac was oddly enough a big ball of contentment. He had come to terms with his brother's death, though it still grieved him to talk about in the same way it would probably grieve Derek to talk about Laura, and he was grateful for his father's death. He even admitted that the pack felt more like home, more like family than his own family ever did. He gave a nervous smile at that and Derek patted him on the shoulder. That was exactly the kind of thing he wanted his betas to say.

Once he started to sit down with Boyd, his ears perked up. "We have company," he said.

The front door crashed open and Chris Argent came stomping in, smelling of rage and panic. "Where is she?"

"Who?" Peter asked.

Derek shot him a look which he conveniently ignored.

"My daughter, Allison, where the hell is she?" Chris's voice was edging near panic and the gun in his hands made Derek nervous. A Hunter on a good day was enough to make a werewolf nervous. A Hunter near mad with worry for his only daughter was a recipe for disaster.

"We don't have her," Derek said.

"Well, someone does, and you're not getting Scott back until I know she's safe."

"Scott?" Isaac asked, stepping forward.

Derek growled at him and he shied away. "Where is Scott?" Derek asked.

"In our car, which has wolfsbane incense burning away, so you better act fast."

"We don't have your daughter. You think she's going to be happy when she finds out you killed her boyfriend?"

"Her safety is my number one priority. Her happiness is second. If I have to, I'll choose the first and sacrifice the second."

Derek's mind raced. There was a chance Evelyn smelled Allison on Scott's clothing and was able to track her down, kidnap her, possibly use her as leverage for the negotiations. Not that that helped any. Time was of the essence in this situation, each minute mattered, but he knew that, since that line had been crossed, there was only one thing to do. They had no other options.

They needed Stiles.

"Chris, stop poisoning Scott or the negotiations are already over. I'm going to get Evelyn here and we're all going to sit and wait patiently for Stiles to get here."

"And why would we do that?"

"Because he's our Ace." He looked at Peter, ignoring Chris's confused questions. "Go onto the roof, call Evelyn. Tell her not to harm Allison. Tell her we have an Enigma." Peter nodded and promptly disappeared.

"Derek, what's going on?" Isaac asked.

"Shut up and sit down. And Erica, not a word. Not a single word."

She gulped and nodded.

He pulled out his phone and texted Stiles. _Get back now._

Within moments, it beeped with a reply. _No can do_.

Derek growled. _Not a request._ If he was serious about wanting to be a part of the pack, he would be in his car already and driving.

But of course, he had to be Stiles. _Screw you =P_

"God damn it, Stiles," Derek muttered as he just hit the call button. He didn't even bother leaving any voice messages the first two times but if it went to voice mail a third time, he was giving Stiles a piece of his mind.

Then he answered. "Mr. Sour Wolf, so good to hear from you." Stiles sounded far, far too chipper and congenial and Derek just wanted to reach through the phone and strangle the boy.

"They have Scott." Hopefully that would wipe the smirk off his face and out of his voice.

Derek grinned when he heard the click as Stiles swallowed. "The Alphas?"

"The Hunters."

Stiles was incredulous. "Why do the Hunters have Scott?"

Well, that should be obvious. "The Alphas have Allison."

"Are you kidding me? Oh my god!" Derek was silent as he threw his temper tantrum. He'd found that if he let him get it out of his system, he was usually easier to deal with. "Five days! Five and you can't even last two! How, how do you guys get yourselves into these messes?" Derek waited to see if there would be more. "Okay. Why? Why do you need me? What good am I going to be?"

Of course, Derek couldn't explain that over the phone. Already he was tense with protectiveness. When Stiles finally did get his ass to Beacon Hills, he was going to be a target, whether he knew it or not and he didn't want to give the ones who might target him more information than they already had. "You are neutral," he said, trying to keep his voice level.

"What do you mean, I'm neutral? Because I'm human?"

Sure. That works. "Something like that."

He heard Stiles sigh, obviously annoyed and exasperated with Derek. Derek was pretty sure he'd be annoyed and exasperated with himself if he was on the other end of the line and he silently congratulated Stiles for all the times he dealt with his short answers. Not that that would make him stop. "And Lydia? What is she, chopped liver? Please don't tell me she's chopped liver."

The last sentence was said with such dread and fear that Derek was momentarily taken aback. "What? No, she's fine. But she won't work."

"Why?"

And then Derek's temper snapped. It was like that time when he was young and he'd fallen out of a tree. His leg had needed setting but his sister just kept asking questions, yelling back and forth from the house, like why was he in the tree, why did he fall from the tree, why did he need mom, before finally he yelled that he could see bone and it was making him nauseous and if she wanted to avoid hearing him vomit all over the place, she would go get mom _right now_. "Because she won't, you idiot! You need to get back here or both Scott and Allison are going to die tonight and Beacon Hills will be a battlefield between Hunters and Wolves."

The line went dead then and Derek was terrified briefly that Stiles had finally snapped and was done, sick of the threats, sick of the wolves, sick of everything. But then he got a text wondering where he should go when he got in town and Derek heaved a sigh of relief.

Then he sent Jackson and Isaac out to the town limits, where Stiles would be driving through, with instructions to watch from a distance but not too obviously. Maybe even follow a false car once in a while in case they were being watched.

And then they all got to sit and play the waiting game.


	3. Chapter 3

The conversation with his father went a little like this, which he didn't even attempt to have until he was safely outside of Sacramento city limits.

"Dad, I have to go back to Beacon Hills."

"Stiles, we talked about this. Scott'll be fine for a few days."

"Dad…"

"Stiles…? Stiles, you're on your way to picking me up, right?"

"Um…"

"Stiles. Wherever you are, get your ass here now."

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'll come back and pick you up, I'll pay for the gas, I'm so sorry, I couldn't wait…"

Whatever else he said was drowned out by his father yelling. He winced but refused to hang up, just left it on speakerphone on his lap while he drove. It was the least he could do, to let his father yell at him over the phone. He deserved worse, and would probably get worse, but it had to take the backburner. In fact, it was best that he left his father in Sacramento. If a war did break out in Beacon Hills, at least he knew his father was safe.

Finally, his father grew silent.

"… Dad?"

He heard a deep sigh. "Stiles. Drive safe. Enjoy your freedom while you still can. And I'm going to get a flight back home at the end of the conference. You're going to pick me up at the airport. And then… we'll go from there, okay?"

"Dad, I'm sorry, I -" He stopped when he heard the dial tone. Oddly enough, that hurt more than the yelling had.

He kept his phone on his leg the whole way but no one else called or texted. That made his skin crawl.

No wonder other people got freaked out when he was sulky or broody.

* * *

"Derek's house, of course it's at Derek's house, everything is at Derek's house. It's like the center of the Hellmouth or something. Wouldn't even be surprised if demons started crawling out of the ground. Oh my god, please don't have demons crawl out of the ground." He parked the car and waited a moment to get his breathing under control. He had no plan other than getting out and yelling, "I'm here! Party's over! Give up the kidnapped kids, everyone go home, drive safe!"

The door was yanked open and no he did not squeak when a hand made up mostly of claws pulled him out.

"Dude!" Stiles was all limbs and flapping gestures but Derek's grip didn't falter as he dragged him up the porch steps. "If you scratched that car… I mean, my dad's already pissed, and I mean _pissed_, I don't need -"

Derek slammed him against the house. "One question, Stiles, and I want the truth. Did Peter…" He took a breath and Stiles was startled to see him hesitate. Derek Hale did not hesitate. "Did Peter offer you the bite?"

Stiles remembered that night in the parking garage, his panic about Lydia, his absolute terror over seeing the nurse in the trunk, the way Peter had crushed his car keys. One of the worst nights of Stiles's life and Derek was casually bringing it up now? "Yeah?"

"And?"

"And what? Do I smell like a werewolf to you? I said no."

"What if I offered?"

"What, right now?" He waved as much as he could with Derek still shoving him against the house. "We have more important things to deal with."

"Forget them. This is important. If we had all the time in the world, no Scott to save, no Hunters - Would you say yes?"

"Derek, I really don't -"

Derek slammed him against the house again. "Answer me."

"Oh my god, no! I would say no, not from you, not Peter, not anyone! Perfectly content with my own humanity, thank you! Happy?"

The door opened and a woman stepped out. "Ecstatic." Then she turned and went back inside.

The look Derek gave him was a mixture of pride, resignation, and dread, and none of them looked right on his face. Pretty much the only expressions that looked right on Derek's face was annoyance or pain. Then Derek turned him around and steered him into the house by his shoulders.

Stiles wasn't sure what it was that was inhibiting his brain to mouth filter. Could be having driven six hours with no one calling him, therefore dwelling in his own brain on how much his dad was going to kill him when he got back, and imagining all the different ways he might find Scott and Derek and the whole pack dead when he got to Beacon Hills. Could be the coffee he got along the way, considering he hadn't had food yet all day and he would probably need something to keep him going. Could be the fact that he'd forgotten to take his second dose of Adderall. Could be the fact that there was an Alpha standing within feet of him who was probably stronger than Derek and also probably the weakest of the entire pack of Alphas, all of whom were probably hanging out nearby.

Whatever it was, he just started talking, even though he knew he should probably keep his mouth shut. "Dude, you should renovate this place. Make it more homey. Or, you know what, leave it, get rid of it, knock it down. It's becoming the Summer's house, you know? The sanctuary that often ends up broken or damaged. Definitely not a secret location anymore, if it ever was." Derek dug his fingernails in Stiles's shoulders. He winced but trekked on because his fingernails were still nails, not claws. "All right, keep it, just add to it. I don't know, a comfy couch, a TV, maybe go nuts and fix the roof. Just the little stuff, you know?" Derek sighed behind him but kept steering him until he was face to face with Peter, Chris, and the woman from before.

"Stiles, you know Peter and Chris Argent. This is Evelyn." Evelyn was tall with gray eyes that flashed red when she looked over Stiles's shoulder at Derek. Her hair was long and curly, framing her head like a halo.

"Pleased to meet you, Evelyn."

She smiled. It was a kind smile with no hint of malice and Stiles wasn't sure if he should be scared or comforted by it.

"He should not be here, Derek!" Scott yelled from out of sight.

Evelyn rolled her eyes. Chris's face remained a mask while Peter allowed a smirk.

"Why _am_ I here, anyway?"

The fingers tightened on his shoulder again. "I already told you, you're neutral."

"What Derek means to say, which gets lost in that grumble growl of his, is that you are an unbiased mediator," Peter said, ignoring Derek.

"You are human," Evelyn said.

"As in, not a Hunter," Derek said into his ear.

"As in, someone who also said no to the bite," Chris said, as if that was the most important part.

"Oh," Stiles said slowly as it all fell into place. That last bit _was_ the most important part. He already knew all the other stuff. "So I'm here to mediate. Okay, well, let Scott and Allison go first."

Evelyn looked shocked and Peter outright laughed.

Considering Scott was able to yell from the other room, he couldn't be in pain or suffering, so that was a relief. But Stiles was pretty sure Allison was in the room, too, if Chris's expression was anything to go by, and she wasn't saying anything. Stiles knew negotiations weren't going to go well until both of them were within eyesight and touching distance. Derek already seemed ridiculously on edge and Chris's face was taut with tension. Allison and Scott needed to be in the room and it kind of pissed Stiles off that he was the mediator, that he had just driven six hours to be here, that he had put his relationship with his father on the line if not completely shredded it into a million pieces, and they just started laughing at him when he made a request.

"You think this is a joke?" Stiles asked. Derek dug his fingers into his shoulders but he ignored him. "How exactly is anyone going to come to a decision when those two are hanging in the balance? Both sides are going to be anxious and a little irritated at the other side. But you know what? It's a show of good will to let them go now, before we even get started." When no one said anything or made a move, he huffed. "Fine. Start your war. I don't even care. But you know what? Start with me. I'm sick of this." He pointed at Chris, the best he could with Derek gripping his shoulders so tight. "I'm sick of you and yours trying to, and succeeding, in killing innocent people. Not to mention Argent Senior repeatedly making his fist intimate with my face. And you," he turned and pointed at Peter, "I'd throw another Molotov cocktail at you in a heartbeat if I thought it would do any good. And I don't know you Evelyn, but I'm tired. I just stole my dad's car and drove six hours straight and, truth be told, I need to empty my bladder. So you know what? Let me go do that and let me know what you decide. I'd like to at least send my dad a farewell text if you plan on going with the war option."

* * *

For some reason, Derek practically hung onto him the rest of the night, only letting go for a few moments while he was in the bathroom. The rest of the night, though, after Allison and Scott were released, they let Peter do most of the talking while the three hashed out an agreement, a treaty of sorts. Sometimes Derek dug his nails in hard, nearly breaking the skin. Other times, he was content to just let his hands rest on his shoulders. Stiles didn't really mind, except for when he dug in. He never said anything, though, because sometimes the pain woke him up and he figured being awake was a good state to be in while werewolves and Hunters were hashing out a very delicate treaty deal.

At one point, he started to ask Derek where all the others were. After all, it was extremely odd that it was just the seven of them. Allison and Scott had been released but were sitting, or sulking rather, on the very uncomfortable looking couch. Where were Erica, Isaac, Jackson, and Boyd? Where were the other Hunters in Chris's group? Where was Evelyn's pack?

But before he even finished the question, Derek dug his nails in and growled. He thought about asking the question anyway but decided he was too tired for Derek's antics. If Derek didn't think it was important, then Stiles was going to assume that meant everything was okay.

The entire ordeal lasted about five hours, well into the early morning hours. Peter and Evelyn argued quite heatedly at one point over the fact that Evelyn seemed to know quite a deal more about the Hale pack than the Hale pack knew about Evelyn's, which was a pretty big disadvantage for the Hale pack. She argued that not only did the Hale pack have an unknown number of Hunters on their side (which thankfully Chris stayed quiet about) but they also had Stiles, what she kept referring to as an Enigma. Stiles was still quite confused about the Enigma part and he made a mental note to ask Derek later about it, considering how he didn't seem to be receptive to Stiles asking any questions at the moment.

Peter started to growl at one point, completely disregarding Derek's answering growl, and Stiles felt the tension rise. Chris's hand moved inconspicuously towards his gun. Stiles jerked towards the middle of the group, everyone still on their feet since Derek had a complete lack of furniture, and waved his arms around. Of course, Derek pulled him back immediately but all eyes were on him already from his flailing so, objective achieved. He scolded both Peter and Chris for their actions, then turned and apologized for their actions to Evelyn. Stiles was pretty good at watching people's eyes and she hadn't missed a single thing, looking from Chris's hands and facial expressions to Peter and Derek's back and forth power play. He could tell she was ready to go on the offensive. Once Stiles spoke up, though, a small amount of amusement crept its way into her eyes, a slight tug on the corner of her mouth, and all tension washed away.

Derek's hands stopped digging and squeezed gently instead.

Evelyn left somewhere around one in the morning, obviously satisfied. For some reason, she kept smiling warmly at Stiles and casting everyone else looks of amusement, as if she were looking at children.

They then spent another hour or so working out a deal with Chris. They couldn't very well have the Argents just kidnapping and torturing select members of the pack whenever things didn't go their way. Likewise, they wanted to be in the know when a pack of Alphas came through their town. Both requests were legitimate enough, but coming to an agreement of how best to keep the other safe and informed while maintaining an acceptable level of hatred was pretty difficult. Eventually, Allison was the one who stepped in and told her father to stop being a hardhead. They shared a couple of looks but eventually, he grudgingly agreed with Allison.

* * *

"Derek," Peter said. The four of them were standing on the porch watching the departure of the Argents, Evelyn having already gone. "There will be more. This is only the beginning. You know that, right?"

The nails dug into Stiles's shoulder and he couldn't even bring himself to wince. Either his shoulders were finally numb or he was just so bone deep exhausted, he couldn't feel it.

"We need to wolf-proof this place," Stiles said. "You know, mountain ash, wolfsbane. Other weird herbs and plants we don't know about yet. Also, we need to make a wiki. A wolfy, hunter-y wiki. All these names, people, faces, I'm beginning to get confused."

Scott stared at Stiles for a moment, looking him up and down. Stiles swayed a bit on his feet in exhaustion. Then Scott sighed. "I'll drive you home."

This time, he felt the nails in his shoulders and he squeaked at the sudden pain, much more intense than any other moment throughout the entire night.

"Dude, my god, the nails!"

"You're staying here tonight," Derek said, voice low and tense.

"But," Stiles started to argue.

Derek growled at the same time Scott held up a hand, as if to placate them. "Stiles, don't argue. I'm getting a very wolfy vibe of Don't Argue. Derek, calm down. He's human, so any damage you do, he's going to feel for days." He waved towards Derek's hands.

The nails eased up just a little.

"It's late, though," Scott continued. "I have to go home or my mom'll freak. Stiles, can I take your jeep?"

Obviously, he wasn't aware of the whole car stealing shenanigans. Stiles shook his head. "No. No jeep. My dad's car. Stole it. Best if you don't. Oh god, I can't believe I did that..." He buried his face in his hands and Derek's hands eased off even more, actually going so far as to squeeze reassuringly.

Then he heard a rattle of keys. "Take mine."

Scott stared at Derek a moment as he caught the keys. "You sure, man?"

But Derek was already turning Stiles towards the house, conversation ended.

Upstairs, Derek sat Stiles on the bed and began taking off his shoes. At the same time as he was about to argue and shove Derek off, a mug of soup was placed in his hands.

"You looked hungry," Peter said.

"Your stomach has been growling nonstop for the last four hours, is what he means," Derek said.

"Well excuse me for rushing here from six hours away to save your hairy butts," he said between mouthfuls.

Derek glared at him.

"Well, I haven't seen him naked since he was a baby, so I can't speak for Derek, but my butt is pretty hairless," Peter said.

Stiles waved a hand at him. "I did not need to know that! And you know what I meant."

"Finish your soup," Derek said.

Stiles glared at him over the mug. "What's got you all huffy and puffy anyway? I'm going to have permanent marks on my shoulders because of you. Seriously, you were breathing down my neck all night. What gives?"

Derek glared at him for a moment, then stood up. He gave Peter a meaningful look and Peter sighed dramatically and sat down in the chair. Then Derek left the room.

"So wait, I stole my dad's car, drove six hours, endured," he looked at his watch, "five or so hours of debating and negotiating with wolves and Hunters, am literally forbidden from going home, and no one wants to include me on possibly important information? Completely unfair. Maybe I should just grab my keys and go."

Peter shook his head. "Bad idea. Look, he's already pissed at me, so I'm not going to explain anything. He needs to do that. One thing you do need to know? He wants you to stay here for your own safety."

"But the treaty..."

Peter shook his head. "He'll probably be less anxious in the morning. Talk to him then."

Derek came back into the room. He took the empty mug out of Stiles's hands and handed it to Peter. They shared another meaningful look and then Peter left, shutting the door behind him.

Derek sat in the chair Peter had just occupied and shuffled around a bit. Then he glanced at Stiles. "Get comfy."

"You're sleeping in that chair?"

"Unless you're offering," he retorted.

Stiles wasn't sure what he was asking. Offer to switch? Hell no, he's had a long, stressful day and if he couldn't end it in the luxury of his own bed, he damn well wasn't giving up the opportunity to spend it in someone else's bed. Or did he mean offer to share the bed? Which, two dudes, sharing a bed, was a little weird. And Derek's bed wasn't very large besides.

"Didn't think so," Derek said when Stiles didn't answer. "Go to sleep."

It took him all of two minutes to get comfy, including grumbles which were mainly for Derek's benefit, and then he was out.


	4. Chapter 4

After six hours of increasing anxiety, it was no wonder Derek was out the door the second he heard the car. He allowed Stiles a moment of ranting to himself before allowing his Alpha instincts to take over, which basically just said TOUCH NEED TO TOUCH RIGHT NOW. So he yanked open the door, actually a little proud of himself for not taking the whole door right off the car, and then yanked the boy out just as forcefully. Stiles argued and flailed quite a bit but he wasn't in any real distress so Derek just kept pulling him.

Right before the door, he realized Evelyn was on the other side, waiting. He was struck with a sudden idea, that maybe Peter had lied, maybe Stiles wasn't an Enigma.

He pushed Stiles against the outside of the house and questioned him, both for his own benefit and for Evelyn's. He wasn't sure which he hoped for more - that Peter was lying and he wasn't an Enigma or that he was.

Basically, the way Derek had had it explained to him, an Enigma is someone who's said no to the bite. A human, not a Hunter, who has said no to the bite. It seemed like such a weird thing to be so important. But when Derek thought about it, a human who knows all about the werewolf world, is not freaked out about it, in fact hangs out with an entire pack enough to be called a pack member, but when given the choice of getting the bite actually declines - that is an enigma. Very rarely does it happen but when it does, that human becomes neutral ground. Automatic pawns and negotiators, mediators. They are trusted by both wolves and Hunters alike.

A wolf sees that human as stubborn and loyal to its own humanity, two traits wolves can relate to very well. The respect a wolf has for that human sky-rockets and suddenly, every wolf in the vicinity wants that human to become a wolf and be in their pack. Therefore, every wolf wants to bite that human, regardless of he or she saying no.

A Hunter sees themselves in such a human as well. The stubbornness, the love for humanity, the will to be a pure, untouched human. The strength to stand up to the werewolf and say no. Suddenly every Hunter in the vicinity wants the human to join their cause because this human, this Enigma, would be a very valuable ally.

This Enigma, this human who knows all the rules of the game but still hangs out in the middle without fear or care for either side becomes a target, far more than an Alpha would ever be.

Derek's new mission was to keep Stiles safe because, yes, Stiles did say no to Peter and no, he would not accept the bite right now if asked in all honesty. There was a slight tremor to his voice, a small hitch in his heartbeat, but the fact remained that he said no. So even if he was lying, he still said no. And that was true bravery.

He continued steering Stiles into the house by his shoulders. If Stiles was a werewolf, Derek's nails would be claws and they would be so far embedded into the boy's shoulders that he'd probably be able to touch fore-claw to thumb-claw. As it was, he had to repeatedly remind himself to ease up on the grip. Actually, it was more like Stiles reminded him by tensing up and hissing in pain. Oddly enough, Stiles could ramble, complain, and blabber on about anything and everything but not once throughout the course of the night did he complain about the nails. Not that it would matter if he did, Derek wasn't going to stop.

He probably should have been the one negotiating instead of Peter, given he was the Alpha now. But he'd let his uncle take the reigns, knowing Peter had more experience and guile than Derek did. Also, more tact, though Derek wouldn't admit that last one if Peter had red eyes and teeth on his neck.

Part of him really did wish he could give the red eyes back to Peter. Even if he could, he never would, not with the way he'd seen Peter abuse the power before. But becoming an Alpha came with more than just red eyes, as he was beginning to realize. Good and bad things, so much so that when he wasn't riding an adrenalin wave of fear and anger, he found himself overwhelmed. He felt a constant, disjointed sense of family, with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd being his kids, Peter his crazy uncle, and Scott and Stiles a pair of strange step sons he still didn't know how to deal with. Actually, Scot was a bit more like a younger brother.

He felt himself constantly worried about their safety while being completely annoyed with them at the same time. And he couldn't deny that the training session he had with Isaac, Erica, and Boyd gave gim a sense of pride and fulfillment that he'd never had before, even when he and Laura had been in New York and he'd gotten her to smile for the first time since the fire.

But it was in moments like this when he struggled the most. Ever since that time in the pool, he felt like he had something with Stiles. A sense of debt, maybe. Then, when he got a good look at his face after Gerard, he'd felt a crushing sense of protectiveness and, if Gerard hadn't disappeared by that point, Derek was sure he would have broken every bone in the old man's body.

When Peter told him why Stiles needed to be the mediator, that he was an Enigma, he'd taken an instinctual step back while every bone in his body said to go forward, find Stiles, and protect him.

Derek was sure Stiles didn't understand even half of the situation and sometimes the kid ran headlong into dangerous situations when he was utterly clueless. Which was why he couldn't bring himself to let go of Stiles's shoulders.

* * *

He let the words roll over him, the emotions, the anxiety, but none of it affected him. It was as if hanging on to Stiles like this, Stiles was all that mattered. When Stiles tensed up, he tensed. When Stiles relaxed, he relaxed.

His eyes darted around the room, constantly keeping track of everything and everyone. It was Alpha instinct. Scott was texting nonstop and Allison was sitting as far from him as possible. That was definitely something he should take note of and address later. Allison smelled of pain but nothing too serious if her calm expression was anything to go by. Chris was less anxious than he'd been when she was out of the room, which proved Stiles's point, but he still glanced at her repeatedly when he thought no one was looking. It had to be nerve-wracking to have his daughter in such imminent danger right after his wife died. Which wasn't Derek's fault, as much as they wanted to pin it on him. A werewolf Hunter might have been exactly the thing to form an alliance and they just ignored the potential.

Stiles was calm the entire time, no hint of fear working its way into his scent at all. That surprised Derek probably more than it should have. All the other times Stiles was afraid was when he was presented with very real danger, like when Peter had been stalking them in the high school, when the kanima was at the pool, and just briefly that time Derek had threatened to rip his throat out in the jeep. This time, he must not be acknowledging the danger he was in. At any moment, Evelyn could turn on them, killing Stiles and probably Derek before anyone was the wiser. And even Derek wasn't sure how many of her pack were nearby .

Even so, Stiles was oddly calm for such a hyperactive child.

Evelyn had an ever increasing smile on her face. That worried Derek far more than anything else. When she looked at Stiles and quirked her lips, those were the only times he reacted to the scene around him, unconsciously digging into Stiles's shoulders. It was his way of saying that Stiles was his. She got the message. She looked at him every time Stiles winced and that irritating smile got bigger. He felt the muscles in his face work into a snarl but he didn't dare growl after Stiles knocked Peter and Chris down a peg or two when they started acting childish. He wasn't afraid of Stiles scolding him but he was afraid that if he tried, Derek would be blinded by Alpha instinct. He was barely holding on as it was.

All night long, all he wanted to do was prove to everyone and everything that Stiles was his, his pack, his human, his Enigma, and to stay away. He had absolutely no idea how to do that, though. In a wolf pack, the wolves marked their territory and no wolf without a death wish would even come into that area. But here he was, mostly human with wolf instincts, near an Alpha, an ex-Alpha, and a Hunter. His instincts were screaming at him to get his human away from these people but he knew logically that he couldn't. He felt his patience and self-control slipping with each moment. Even after everyone left, he didn't know how to establish his dominance without completely freaking Stiles out.

Damn Peter for never having this problem.

It got astronomically better after Evelyn and the Argents left, after Peter had given Stiles food, and finally Stiles was safely in bed with Derek in the chair to keep watch. Most of the danger was a safe distance away, if not gone completely, and his instincts could shut up.

Part of him was pretty pissed off that Stiles was still hesitant and argumentative about Derek's position as Alpha. After tonight, Derek decided that Scott was basically part of his pack whether he liked it or not, and Stiles definitely was. Now to prove that to Stiles.

After an hour or two of listening to Stiles sleeping, Derek drifted off in a light sleep. There was no way he was going to be able to sink whole-heartedly into dreamland after a night like this.

Which turned out to be a good thing. Derek's eyes snapped open and his first thought was, _his breathing isn't right_. He knew, based on nose and ears, that there wasn't a threat nearby. He stayed absolutely still, thinking maybe Stiles was having a nightmare. When Derek had nightmares, which was rare now, it was best to leave him alone. Laura had learned that the hard way, but had refused his apologies, saying it was her fault, that she shouldn't have startled him. Like, let sleeping wolves lie, even when and especially if they're having nightmares.

But then he realized Stiles's eyes were open, sometimes staying open for long periods of time, sometimes blinking rapidly, looking around the room but not seeing.

He warred with himself for a moment before standing up. Stiles tense, even more than he already was, and Derek went over the the bed slowly so as not to startle him even more.

"Stiles. Do you know where you are?"

Stiles nodded jerkily.

"Can I sit on the bed?"

Another nod.

Derek sat down slowly, putting a hand on Stiles's leg. "Are you all right?"

Another nod.

Derek stared at him for a moment. Stiles not speaking was abnormal, as was his breathing and rigid position. He was definitely not all right.

Derek's mind raced. He was prepared, almost eager even, for an outside attack, for rival wolves or rogue Hunters, so he could show his strength and dominance, show how he could protect him. He could protect Stiles from all that. He was strong, quick, and agile. Maybe he hadn't quite reached the level of full wolf yet, but he had faith in his own abilities.

But this. This was an internal thing. He didn't know how to protect Stiles from himself. He wasn't prepared for that kind of threat.

And it wasn't like he could ask Stiles to hold on while he went and conferred with Peter. This was a situation that needed immediate attention.

"Can I do anything?"

Stiles shook his head. He swallowed convulsively and Derek realized he was struggling to breathe.

Derek picture up a glass of water near the bed, his from the previous night. "Would you like some water?"

Stiles stared at it a moment, clearly indecisive. Derek held it closer to Stiles and Stiles reached out for it.

"Ah, ah, you'll spill it. Sit up."

As Stiles pushed himself up, Derek realized he was trembling. His jaw clenched.

He handed over the glass without a word. Stiles drained it and handed it back with a forced smile. Derek put the glass back where it was and quickly situated himself next to Stiles, one arm behind him. Stiles tensed and started to say something but Derek pushed him back with a hand on his chest. "You looked cold. And I've been told I'm like a furnace."

"You d-d-don't -" Stiles started to say.

"Shut up," Derek said. He tightened his grip around Stiles. "I can play the guitar." He could feel Stiles turn to stare at him. "Don't look at me like that, I can. When your whole family dies in a violent fire, you've got to find a way to deal. Laura wrote poems. She also got me a guitar and I taught myself how to play. Soon, her poems became songs that she would sing while I played guitar. We'd go to the subway stations and play for hours.

"Now, I can't sing for shit but Laura? She had a beautiful voice. Kind of deep and raspy, as if she'd been a smoker but... She never smoked. I think people watched us just for her voice, to be honest."

"Why are you telling me this?" Stiles asked, his breathing mostly back to normal.

"To make you stop thinking about whatever it was you were thinking about."

The last of the tension in Stiles's shoulders seeped out as if he just didn't have the strength to hold onto it any longer. "It was a panic attack." Derek felt him swallow. "There's not always a... a trigger."

"Are you still having a panic attack?"

"No."

"Good." They sat in silence for a few minutes. The panic attack might have finished but the tremors took a bit longer to go away completely. "Just so we're clear, what happens in this room stays in this room."

Stiles chuckled. "Can't have anyone finding out you have a talent doing something beautiful like playing the guitar."

"Exactly. It'll ruin my reputation."

"Your room is cold."

Derek pulled him in a little tighter.

"No, I mean... you should sleep on the bed. We. Both. Same time." Stiles shook his head and sighed, moving so he could pull at the covers. "Get in."

Derek hesitated. "You're sure?"

"What happens here stays here, right?"

Derek got in under the covers and pulled Stiles close to him. For one, the bed was small, closeness was a necessity. For two, the teenager was still shivering minutely.

"Do you need another blanket?"

"Dude, you really are a furnace, I'll be fine in a minute."

In two, his breathing had evened out into deep slumber. Only then did Derek let himself follow suit.


	5. Chapter 5

It was strange how comfortable it was the next morning. At one point during the night, he'd woken up with a panic attack. He wasn't sure what had triggered it, if anything, but it wasn't long before Derek was by his side. He wasn't sure what he expected, to be honest. But for Derek to be absolutely perfect was definitely not it. The first time his father witnessed him having a panic attack, he'd practically had one himself. All flailing limbs and high voice asking what can he do, what should he do, oh god please Stiles just breathe and calm down. That had been a disaster. One thing you definitely don't do when someone is having a panic attack is panic because they're having a panic attack. But Derek had just been calm, asking calm questions, not moving too quickly, giving him some water, and then just holding him and talking to him until the shakes receded. Then in the morning, he'd gotten up right as Stiles was waking, leaving the room before Stiles even fully opened his eyes.

Downstairs, Derek was making food, toast and scrambled eggs with cheese. He even had orange juice on the table.

Isaac and Peter were chatting in the living room and both said hi as he walked in.

"I'll take you home after breakfast," Derek said.

"I can drive home, it's okay," Stiles said. Sleep was still heavy on him and his voice was thick with it. He sat at the table and yawned.

"Scott has my car. You live pretty close to Scott. I'll take you home," Derek said.

"Oh. Okay. Makes sense."

Derek set a plate in front of him with a glass of juice, then sat across the table from him.

"Nothing for you? Did you make this just for me?" Stiles asked, the surprise of it waking him up.

Derek shook his head. "I'm not big into breakfast. I'll eat later."

"Oh. Well, thanks. Thoughtful." Stiles furrowed his brows, confused, but his stomach rumbled at the smell so he dug in.

"I'm sure you have questions and I'm betting they're easier to answer when you have your mouth full."

Stiles glared at Derek but couldn't speak since he'd just shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Derek grinned.

"We kept calling you the Enigma last night. I'm sure you're wondering what that is and why it's important." Derek took a deep breath before continuing. "When Peter asked you if you wanted the bite, you said no. At that moment, you became the Enigma.

"I'm pretty pissed off at Peter for that, to be honest. Of course you said no. Of course you'd say no now. You're Stiles. You wouldn't say yes to that. He shouldn't have asked you."

"Why?" he asked around a mouthful.

Derek glared but continued. "You know about werewolves. You know how dangerous they are. You know their strengths and their weaknesses. And because of Scott, you run with werewolves. You're not scared of them, most of the time. You help us, you defend us, you protect us. You are part of the pack.

"But you said no. That one word was enough to make you an Enigma. You're..." Derek seemed to struggle to find the words. "You're loyal. Fiercely loyal. It's a trait that is well respected in the wolf and Hunter communities alike. There are very, very few humans who are not Hunters who know about werewolves, who are not terrified of them, who also do not want to be a werewolf. It's rare, it's very rare.

"Wolves don't usually ask before they bite. After finding out that you're an Enigma, they'll want you in their pack, even if it means causing unrest with our entire pack. Hunters, too, are going to want you. They're going to want to convince you about how horrible wolves can be, the horrible things they've done, why they should all be exterminated, like vermin." Derek took a breath to avoid growling. "You're wanted now. A target."

"Me? Just because I said no?"

Derek nodded. "That's why he shouldn't have done that, put you in that position, allowed you to say no. You're only human, you can't protect yourself against Hunters and wolf packs."

"_Allowed_ me to say no? You think he should have bit me anyway?"

"He shouldn't have asked you, is my point."

"So if Erica or Isaac or Boyd had said no, they'd be an Enigma now, too?"

"Not necessarily. There's a good chance I would have frightened them off, freaked them out just enough that they never spoke of it again, or worse, found an Argent or another Hunter and joined their team."

"But because I already knew about werewolves and everything, because I was already involved and committed..."

Derek nodded. "That's why you're the mediator, neutral. That's also why Lydia can't be. She was bitten but she's immune. She didn't make a conscious choice about it."

Stiles put his fork down, finished. "That kind of sucks. I mean, not about Lydia, because jeez if she had to be a mediator..." Stiles shuddered. Lydia had a quick tongue and a sharp mind. Stiles also wouldn't want her to be a target. "But... how long? How long will I be a target for? Until they leave? Or... is this like..."

"A lifelong thing? Yeah." Derek didn't look angry or annoyed. He actually looked a little sad.

"So I'm cursed. Great."

"If it makes you feel any better, it strengthens the pack," Peter said, coming into the room. He picked up Stiles's plate and brought it to the sink with a smile and a wave for Stiles to remain sitting.

"That's not the point," Derek said through gritted teeth.

"If I were cursed, I'd want to know it was for a good cause," Isaac said. He sat down across from Stiles with a shrug.

"Exactly," Peter said.

Derek took a deep, steadying breath. "Are you ready?" he asked Stiles.

Stiles nodded. He could ask more questions in the car. It seemed like Peter's presence alone was enough to piss Derek off and if he was going to have a discussion with him that didn't involve him hitting his head into a steering wheel, getting slammed against a wall, or getting nails dug into his shoulders, then it was probably a good idea to get Derek away from all instigators.

After a brief argument, or rather lots of arguing and huffing from Stiles but only stony silence from Derek, Stiles handed over the keys and got in the passenger seat.

"You scratch this or crash this, I'm dead. That's all there is to it, it will be the last straw, my father will kill me."

"When's he coming home?"

Stiles sighed. "A few days. Conference doesn't end until Friday."

Derek nodded. "I'll stay with you until then."

"What? Why?"

Derek glanced at him. "Because. You're. A target." Derek rolled his eyes. "I can get Isaac or Scott to keep a look out for a little while but I'd rather do it myself."

Stiles thought for a moment. "Wait. You said I'm going to be a target for the rest of my life, basically. Are you always going to have someone keeping track of me?"

Derek glared at the road and pursed his lips.

"Not actually a rhetorical question." Stiles stared at him. "Actually looking for an answer here."

"I think you already know the answer."

Stiles sat back in his seat. "So. When I'm doing homework, someone will be watching me. When I'm sleeping, someone will be watching me. When I go off to college, someone will be watching me."

Derek looked over at Stiles sharply. "Where are you going off to college?"

Stiles threw up his hands. "I don't know! Somewhere not here!"

"We'll have to discuss that with the pack."

"Excuse me?"

Derek shrugged. "Or you can go alone and possibly get killed, entirely your decision."

"Well this is just great. College, the time of opportunities, your time to do stupid shit and go crazy and experiment, for everyone except Stiles. Stiles gets to be an Enigma. Stiles gets to be a Target. Stiles gets to be attacked and threatened and beaten up by ninety year old assholes for the rest of his life. Yay for Stiles."

* * *

The last day of the conference in Sacramento, his dad called to let him know he'd be landing at two thirty in the afternoon. Stiles got to the terminal at two and found himself chewing on a pencil from the dash for the next thirty minutes in the passenger seat.

His father seemed to appear suddenly and settle in to the driver's seat. Stiles opened his mouth at least three times on the ride back home but his father kept making noises and gestures that clearly said, 'shut up.'

Inside the house, his father undoubtedly saw the jeep keys and a hundred dollar bill on the counter but didn't comment on them. Stiles tried not to crowd him but he did continue to make himself available for the tongue lashing he knew was coming.

Finally around six o'clock, his father turned to him just as Stiles was following him on his heels into the kitchen.

"Stiles. Go to your room."

Stiles breathed deep. "Aren't you going to yell at me first?"

He regarded Stiles for a moment. "I'm sending you to your room."

"But -"

"Stiles. I would really, really, _really_ like to not repeat myself."

Stiles hadn't heard that tone in a really long time but he still remembered that it meant his dad meant business. Without another word, he retreated to his room.

It was three days before they said another word to each other. The first day, Saturday, he had to listen to Scott complain for at least an hour about how much it sucked that Allison wasn't talking to him and now, one of his first full days off from work since summer started, Stiles had to go and get himself grounded. And how Derek was now doing this touchy feely talk-about-your-feelings thing with everyone and he keeps trying to get Scott to talk, and about how his relationship with his mom was a little strained since she found out about the werewolf thing.

Then his dad had come into the room, quiet and quick in that parent way that made Stiles's heart stop, took the phone, and then left just as quickly.

Stiles was actually a bit relieved, despite the look on his father's face when he'd come into the room, because he really didn't want to listen to how horrible Scott's life was when Stiles was grounded indefinitely. At least Scott still had use of his phone. At least he'd had a girlfriend for a little while. At least Stiles had saved his life a few days ago. At least his mother was talking to him.

His father unplugged the internet as well and Stiles was stuck inside his head, where nothing was pretty and his anxiety level had room to grow. After the first night, he stopped taking Adderall altogether. Letting his ADD go rampant wasn't the best idea, considering he was confined to his room unable to call anyone or go online, but he also suffered insomnia when his ADD ran rampant. After the panic attack the first night, he believed it was better to be hyperactive and bouncy with nothing to do rather than suffer another panic attack of that magnitude. Derek had appointed Isaac lookout for the night, who hadn't had a single clue as to what to do. The poor guy had seemed near tears with worry for him, which only served to magnify the panic attack, though Isaac couldn't have had any idea that would happen. Stiles ended up on the comforting end of that situation.

Derek showed up the next night and seemed to decide to keep all the night shifts himself from then on, not that it mattered considering Stiles had decided to give up on sleep. Sunday night, or rather early Monday morning, around three, Derek had huffed and asked him why he wasn't asleep. By this point, Stiles was snappy with exhaustion and before he'd finished two sentences, Derek ended up holding up his hands in surrender.

He was giving his father space. After the first night, he'd decided that he would let his father make the first move. He knew his father needed to calm down and everything. But with each passing hour, he felt like his sanity was slipping away. By Monday morning, he'd cleaned his room twice (the second time because he'd decided to pull out all his cds and movies to make sure every disc was in the right case and then reorganize them all, which only got a quarter done because he decided to put The Matrix on in the computer but then he realized the disc was scratched so he went searching for the disc cleaner, found a yo-yo in his closet that was tangled, started to unwind it, and basically ended up with a huge mess) and then moved on to the rest of the house once his father left for work in the morning.

At five, he ran back to his room. He was grounded, after all, even if his father had never actually said the words. That used to be something he loved about his relationship with his father, that very few words were ever needed between them. Now, though, all he wanted was for his father to talk to him. Anything would be better than what he was imagining.

Every night since his father had gotten back, his father had made dinner and left it on a tray outside Stiles's door. Monday night was no different, but this time there were a couple of oreos as well. His father's way of saying thanks for cleaning the house.

"Can you do my house next?" Derek asked from the chair.

Stiles snorted. "Your house would take weeks."

"Not the way you're going."

Stiles blinked, then shrugged. "The joys of ADD."

"Don't you take something for that?"

"Usually."

"Usually?"

"Yes, usually, as in generally, as in it is commonplace and routine for me to take medication to control my inability to focus, however, I stopped taking it a few days ago."

Derek frowned. "Why?"

"Because I did. End of story," Stiles snapped.

Derek held up his hands again. "Maybe you should just talk to him."

"Don't," Stiles said. "Don't go there with me. I know you've been doing the Dr. Phil thing with everyone else but don't try it with me."

"It might do you good."

Stiles slashed the air with his hand. "No."

Derek bit his lip. "Fine." After a few minutes, Derek sucked in some air, as if he just had an epiphany.

"What?"

"You're not sleeping. Not taking your meds."

Stiles stared at him a moment. Derek had actually connected two and two. "You're smarter than you look."

Derek glared at him. Then the softness returned to his eyes, the same softness Stiles had seen the night he slept in Derek's bed. "Is it always at night?"

"Is what always at night?"

"The panic attacks."

Stiles flopped down on the bed, lacing his fingers together behind his head. He contemplated putting pictures on his ceiling. The white dots were boring to look at. "Yeah, mostly."

After a moment, Derek spoke, hesitantly. "You have to sleep at some point."

"Yeah."

Then Stiles jumped up and began rummaging around in his closet. He found some magazines and started cutting out pictures, mostly of Iron Man, Captain America, and Spiderman, but he threw in some Black Widow, too. He proceeded to make it into a big project, cutting out pictures and putting them on the ceiling. Derek thankfully stopped talking and seemed content just watching him. A couple of times, Stiles glanced at him, completely in awe of the way some people can just sit and not do or say anything and be completely content with that. Stiles would be crawling out of his skin within ten minutes.

He spent the next few hours focusing on this project in an effort to not focus on his father, his mother, his broken home. He felt like, if he stopped, he would drown in the tidal wave of self-pity and guilt that was always lurking at the edges. Usually, he could keep them at bay, but in times like these, when he was sleep-deprived and in the middle of a fight with his father, they were more difficult to keep away.

And he definitely did not want to have a breakdown in front of Derek.


End file.
